


Boy. In love.

by Hesesols



Series: Eclipse [23]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, this thing called prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols
Summary: Day5of IR week: He blames it all on Rukia, who makes himfeelthings and turns him into a sap.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Eclipse [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757437
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33
Collections: Ichiruki week





	Boy. In love.

.

In all honesty Ichigo is not a flowers kinda guy.

Now _no—_

_._

_Don't look at him like that!_

_._

He has nothing against them. They're pretty to look at, smell good too and his teenage sisters will vouch that he is perfectly "in touch with his feminine side" with that one time he allowed them to do his hair and signed him up for a pedicure.

It's just- he huffs; he just doesn't _see_ the big deal in giving them!

It's not practical- his brain argues for one, flowers wilt and there's always things like allergies to consider. The last thing he wants to do is to send someone to the ER because of them. A vainer part of him argues that it doesn't really fit his aesthetics.

Picture this: he stands 5'11", scowls on his good days, hair a tousled mess of fiery locks _au naturale_. The teachers think he's some sort of delinquent, and he's almost sorry to say that he has never given them any reason to think otherwise despite his above average grades.

Talking- that's not much of his thing either. Actions speak louder than words.

Or at least that's what he used to believe until Rukia crash-landed into his world and turned his world upside down.

Quite literally.

And his world has never been the same. From avenging his mother's death to saving the world from otherworldly forces- once for the novelty, twice because it's a matter of principles, thrice- because these things **always** comes in threes and Ichigo is just waiting for the other shoe to drop at this point because he just _knows_ that Fate loves to screw with him.

But he digresses. Let's leave the talk of saving the world for another day, right now he has something else to focus on and this is every bit just as important.

.

_Rukia—_

_._

Pint-sized as she is, the woman is quite possibly the furthest thing he would envision as being delicate or helpless. She's a spitfire and takes charge from the get-go and yet, she makes him… _soft_.

Almost sickeningly so with the way he is forced to look away every time she makes a face or god forbid when she pouts and he just wants to reach out and _squish_ her apple cheeks because she is just _that_ adorable to him!

She makes him want to say things- mushy, gushy things that are almost certainly an affront to his punk aesthetics and high school boy sensibilities.

Despite his best attempts to remain aloof, to keep his cool because _Goddamn it! He has an image for crying out loud! What will his classmates think?-_ She's a black hole and he's utterly powerless against her pull.

And now he's calling himself names, lamenting on his fall, second-guessing his choice of flowers for the date. Because what if she hates them or has some sort of allergies to them and they end up spending their first date in the Fourth Division?

How utterly un-romantic would that be?

And his father- that annoying, cumbersome man, he would never let him live it down.

Do Shinigamis even _have_ allergies?

.

"Are those for me?"

Just the sound of her voice is enough to startle him from his musings. The bouquet of flowers- a blooming collection of lily of the valley, orange tulips, a clutch of snowdrops in their midst, is clenched tight in his fist.

.

_Act casual! Don't lose your cool. Don't be a dumbass. Compliment he—_

_._

Ichigo loses track of his thoughts, almost bites down on his tongue by mistake when he sees her bathed in the glow of moonlight as she makes her way towards him, her smile soft and knowing.

The shaft of light makes the diamond teardrops hanging from her ears sparkle. The bejewelled pearl hair combs that hold up her hair wink faintly when contrasted against the sleek black. And when she moves, the silver embellishments on the fitted bodice of her dress catches the light while the gauzy sheerness of the midnight blue skirt trails behind her.

He gulps.

.

_Dear Lord—_

_._

"You can stop staring now," she teases.

His face coloured.

"S-Shut up!"

He is more than a little flustered as he hands the flowers over. But the small smile that follows Rukia's 'thank you' more than makes up for his annoyance at her teasing. He scratches the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious about how underdressed he looks by comparison as they stand next to each other.

She looks like a dream- like she's made of stardust and there's moonlight threaded in her hair, a moonflower blooming in hues of midnight blue and silver. The way she seems to glow under the light, the curve of her lips that suddenly made the world seem much more hospitable- how could mere words do her justice? To put into writing how good she looks to him?

A sharp inhale and then—

"Y-You look beautiful."

.

_There!_

_He said it!_

_._

His voice is tight and a light blush stains his cheeks.

"Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself."

Rukia continues to grace him with her smiles, even as she sniffs delicately at his flowers and he thinks he must be doing something right at least. It's pathetic how much his heart races with just mere words from her or how his mood hinges on hers but Ichigo wants her to keep smiling at him, for him for the rest of the evening if possible.

"The flowers are a nice touch," she tells him before smirking knowingly, "you aren't as sneaky as you think you know."

"Wha—"

"A Kuchiki is well-versed in all forms of arts," she smirks, "Including that of _ikebana_ and the delicate language of flowers, _hanakotoba_."

He pales at the thought. He thought he is being subtle, expressing those words and sentiments that he'd never say out loud and channelling his nervous energy into something of a beautiful, artistic endeavour. Rukia can't possibly have known.

This is embarrassing as it is!

"I love the lily of the valley and the snowdrops are a nice, _hopeful_ touch. If all else fails, it's always a good idea to flatter a Captain with her division's insignia. But the orange tulips are by far my favourite."

Her eyes are deep mesmerizing pools of amethysts and when her hand found his, lacing their fingers together, there is no mistaking that sudden hitch in his breath.

Rukia chuckles as a response to his dramatic reaction to her touch.

"The orange tulips," she begins, voice uncharacteristically soft, "A bit bold of you and I am not entirely sure Nii-sama would approve of the forwardness but—" the grip on his hand tightens and he finds it impossible to look away from her—"we truly are physically and spiritually connected, aren't we?"

.

_Yes!_

_._

His mind screams.

From the day her sword first pierced through his soul or maybe even longer before then, their fates have been bound and sealed together. The red ribbons don't lie. It doesn't matter if they are beings from two worlds, separated by the shroud of death; the many nights they spend apart, the fights- some for pride, others for justice, the wars between worlds and that of their hearts, there is no truer warmth than that of her tiny hand in his.

They are soulmates.

.

"Then again I could be wrong and they could just be alluding to your orange hair."

The teasing shine in her eyes is back and he bears it with surprisingly good humour considering.

"Rukia," he groans, pursing his lips, "There is no getting past you, is there?"

The smile she flashes at him is impish but his heart flutters all the same.

"I appreciate the effort. Now what are we waiting for?" she asks as she playfully pokes at his side.

Even with the use of a _Senkaimon_ , it will still take a while for them to enter the Living World. They really do need to get going now if they want to turn up on time for the event. From what little she manages to glean from Orihime, dressing up is just part of the fun, there is also music, food and dancing to look forward to.

Violet eyes narrow.

"You seemed pretty excited about this 'prom' thing when you first brought it up. Don't tell me you're scared of dancing!"

Ichigo scoffs.

"Like hell I am! Just give me a minute, ok?"

Her gaze falls to the square transparent box he held in his hands. Inside it, there is a wrist band of sorts- blue delphiniums and forget-me-nots held together by silver silk ribbons. The fresh flowers are lovely and mirror the same blue floral arrangements on the lapel of Ichigo's tuxedo jacket.

They match. Despite never having seen these things before, the gesture is not lost on Rukia. In an archaic world like Soul Society, there are many things heard in the way things are seen and yet remain unsaid.

For her- an unwed Kuchiki lady to wear flowers gifted by him, the implications are obvious.

Her eyes flit to his.

Ichigo gulps, "Y-You're supposed to wear this on your left hand. I mean you don't have to if you don't want to! It's not like I want to pressure you into anything or that I—"

Rukia cuts his rambling short as she holds out her free hand and informs him with a roll of her eyes, cheeks flaming— "You talk too much."

She holds her tongue as shaky fingers slipped the corsage over her wrist.

"There!"

There is wonder in her eyes as she holds her new accessory to the light, wordlessly inspecting it. The silver ribbon looks bright and striking against the blue-green veins of her wrist and the flowers— the twin blues of the forget-me-nots and delphinium stare back at her, echoing sentiments of true love, joy, ardent attachment.

This—

A sudden lump lodges itself in her throat, tears that she valiantly holds at bay for fear of ruining the hard work of Rangiku and the girls from the Shinigami Women's Association for the past few hours.

"You're such a sap, Ichigo!"

"And why do you think that is?"

It is very much a rhetorical question. The answer is standing right in front of him.

Rukia with her no-nonsense approach and take no prisoners stance to saving lives and protecting the innocents from Hollows, unflinching as she stands before obstacles and opponents that tower over her. This woman who shows him a world beyond death, gives him a purpose for his gift, willing to break the law, endangering her own life to save his and his family the very first night they met- she is the sum of all things good in this life.

She dries his rain and steadies the blade in his hands. In her, he finds his resolve, his reason to win at all cost. After meeting her and knowing the warmth of her hand in his, after seeing the true worth of her soul and knowing what it means to protect, is there a meaning to life without her?

She makes him _feel_ things, do stupid things like worry about flower arrangements and Shinigami allergies, turns him into a mushy mess of nervous rambling and teenage angst, unlocks his inner poet and has him composing sonnets of her that would make Shakespeare proud.

"Don't deny it!" he tries in vain to hide his smile, squeezing their linked hands, "You turned me into this sap, Rukia! You have to take responsibility for it somehow."

Rukia simply laughs, then much to his surprise (and secret delight), grabs him by the front of his jacket and pulls him down for a kiss.

Their lips meet soft and chaste beneath the pale moonlight.

It's the start of something new and gilded, blessed by the moon and stars as the red ribbon wound around them burns scarlet.

.

_Since when?_

_._

Ask the quiet, lovelorn hearts- old enough to doubt but still young enough to dream, scarcely daring to believe, but from one heart to another— the answer that echoes is a collective and exalted sigh.

.

_Always_.

.

If asked, Ichigo maintains that he is still very much not a flowers kinda guy.

But for Rukia, he is always willing to make exceptions.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Beneath the pale moonlight- a romantic getaway
> 
> Song rec- she likes spring, I prefer winter. There's also a BTS song with the same name as this fic albeit spelt differently. The lyrics are what I imagined Ichigo would think in a soliloquy.
> 
> Lily of the valley- return to happiness
> 
> My headcanon for their first date and how they officially decided that they're a couple now.


End file.
